


Hold My Hand Tight, We'll Make It Another Night

by Jennsepticeye



Category: Marble Hornets
Genre: Accidental Cuddling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, M/M, Nightmares, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Other characters mentioned - Freeform, Touch-Starved, Touch-Starved Tim Wright, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:27:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28101663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jennsepticeye/pseuds/Jennsepticeye
Summary: Tim isn’t a tactile person. He always has a wall at his back, always standing at a distance. He never reaches out, never crosses that line. He’s never had any desire to. No one has held him in years and he’s long since learned to associate human touch with needles and sedatives and pain. Sure, he and Brian were close, but even Brian never touched him beyond a rare goodbye hug. Tim isn’t tactile, he knows this and he doesn’t mind. He doesn’t. He went nearly two decades without physical affection and he’s not bothered. He’s not.He is.
Relationships: Jay Merrick/Timothy "Tim" Wright | Masky
Comments: 3
Kudos: 54





	Hold My Hand Tight, We'll Make It Another Night

**Author's Note:**

> I literally have a final tomorrow but I typed this super niche WIP I've had for ages instead of studying.  
> Fuck.

To say Tim had a rough childhood would be an understatement. His youth was full of fear and pain and isolation. He knows it left him with issues, growing up with diagnoses like schizophrenia and dissociative identity disorder. Diagnoses that he now hardly believes. He knows most of the residual issues well. He knows he has a hard time trusting people, since his mother dropped him at the hospital and never came back. He knows that he sleeps like shit because even if he’s not plagued with insomnia, the nightmares will keep him up instead. He knows he’s got shitty coping mechanisms like cigarettes and pretending that everything is fine. One thing he wasn’t aware of, was his relationship with touch, at least not for a long time.

~*~

Jay is a strange guy. Tim knew this before he ever got involved in this little investigation. Jay is always on edge, twitchy and nervous. If he’s not staring at his camera he’s watching his feet, hiding from the world behind the brim of his cap. The Sickness makes him constantly cold and the oppressive heat of Alabama does nothing to help. Most of all though, Jay is  _ tactile.  _

It wasn’t something Tim noticed before, or maybe he just didn’t remember, but Jay likes touching people. He’s always reaching out for something. Maybe it’s a comforting hand on Tim’s shoulder, or arms bumping while they walk down paths in the woods, or leaning against each other while they review tapes. Maybe… Maybe it’s a relieved hug once they escape from some eldritch horror or another. Whatever it is, Jay is always the one to initiate any contact.

Tim isn’t a tactile person. He always has a wall at his back, always standing at a distance. He never reaches out, never crosses that line. He’s never had any desire to. No one has held him in years and he’s long since learned to associate human touch with needles and sedatives and pain. Sure, he and Brian were close, but even Brian never touched him beyond a rare goodbye hug. Tim isn’t tactile, he knows this and he doesn’t mind. He doesn’t. He went nearly two decades without physical affection and he’s not bothered. He’s not. 

He is.

~*~ 

Tim notices in degrees. There’s no desk in this particular motel, so the laptop is on the coffee table and he and Jay are hunched over it on the couch. The sunken cushions have pushed them closer until they’re pressed together from shoulder to knee. Jay makes no move to shift away. In fact, he looks completely unbothered. So, Tim can’t figure out why it affects him so much, why his skin feels alight, why he has an immense desire to lean his head on Jay’s shoulder. Then Jay moves and Tim is pulled from his thoughts and back into the real world.

“What’s this in the background?” Jay is pointing at a spot on the screen. Most of the frame is occupied by Tim’s back, but Rosswood’s trees are visible in the background. Tim leans forward to take a closer look at where Jay’s finger is smudging the screen. It’s a slim black but undefined figure.

“I think it’s just a tree. There’s no head see?” He points just above Jay’s finger. “There’s no arms either.”

Jay nods. “Okay, good.” He presses play again and sits back.

Tim tries to keep his cool, to not make it awkward. He likes to think that he’s gotten pretty good at masking his emotions. And Jay, thankfully, Jay doesn’t seem to notice Tim’s half-baked confused panic.

~*~

“Jay,  _ run. _ ” Tim’s voice breaks the silence of the woods. Not even the birds are singing and the wind has stopped. Something is wrong.

“What?” Jay is oblivious to it as always.

“We have to run.” He can feel it now, the buzzing in his teeth, the blood crawling up his throat. It’s here.

They don’t have time to wait for Jay to get it, so Tim grabs him by the arm and pulls Jay behind him and breaks into a run. Jay’s just paranoid enough about the Operator to follow without question. Jay starts coughing as Tim pushes them faster. It’s daytime, but as long as they’re in the woods they’re in danger. They break out into the parking lot, and even though his legs and lungs are on fire he doesn’t stop. They separate around the car and Tim floors it out of the parking lot without seatbelts. They drive in paranoid silence all the way back to the motel, constantly checking the mirrors for any sign that it’s following. Tim’s teeth stop buzzing the moment they leave the parking lot.

They stand back to back at the motel door so Jay can watch his six while Tim unlocks the door. They don’t relax until the door is closed and locked and the curtains are shut tight. After that it just seems natural to collapse into one another. Jay tugs on the edge of Tim’s sleeve and when he turns around he finds himself with an armful of script supervisor turned detective. Tim’s hands are shaking where he’s curled them in the back of Jay’s sweatshirt and he can feel Jay’s hands doing the same. He’s all long limbed and tense where he’s wrapped himself around Tim.

They’re okay.  _ They’re okay. _ They lived. They’re fine. Tim repeats that to himself like a mantra, over and over as he holds Jay against him. He shouldn’t. He should let go and keep his distance, but he’s crashing and he’s weak so he’ll let himself have this. He takes deep breaths and buries his face in Jay’s collar. They stand like that for a long while until Tim’s bad leg starts to ache and he shifts away. He hates how much he misses Jay’s touch immediately. He hates how much he wants to wrap himself in Jay’s arms and never leave. But that’s unreasonable so he pushes Jay away and gives him a quick look over. Finding no injuries he smiles. He doesn’t find very many reasons to smile these days. They part without a word and Jay takes the first shower. Tim tries not to let his thoughts linger on the feeling of being wrapped up in Jay’s arms but it’s practically impossible. When it’s his turn to shower he turns the water near scalding and pretends he’s not alone.

~*~

“I’m sorry gentlemen, but we only have singles available.” The woman behind the counter looks at them both apologetically. 

Tim frowns. They really can’t afford two singles. With how often Tim has been calling out of work for this shit they won’t have substantial funds for a while and they need a place to sleep tonight. They could sleep in the car but—

Jay makes the decision for both of them.

“One single will be fine, thank you.” He says.

The woman gives them a funny look and Tim can understand why. The pair of them look quite strange. Jay with his perpetual dark circles and the camera glued to his hand, and Tim standing behind him with greasy hair and a go-pro strapped to his chest. Not to mention they’re two fully grown men booking a single in fucking Alabama. Tim would give them a weird look if he were her too.

She doesn’t say anything though, just completes the transaction and hands them each a key card to the room.

When they get there Jay drops his bag with a sigh and puts the hand-held on the desk. The red light blinks steadily, like some sort of electronic guard dog.

“I can take the floor.” Jay says, breaking the silence.

Tim looks at him, bundled up in all his layers even though it’s only September, and the exhausted way he carries himself. He’s running himself ragged, and sleeping on the floor won’t help. Then Tim looks at the floor, ugly patterned carpet dull with grime and wrinkles his nose. Neither of them have health insurance to cover whatever diseases it carries, so Tim’s not sleeping on the floor either.

“No way.” Tim says finally. “It’s a queen, we’ll just share. It’s fine.”

Jay shrugs, indifferent. “If you’re sure.”

Sleep doesn’t come easy that night. Tim lays on his side with his back to Jay for a long time, holding himself stiffly so as not to bother his bedmate. He watches the red numbers on the bedside clock click by. Finally his eyes shut, far too long after Jay’s breathing has evened out.

Tim’s a bit confused when he wakes up only a few hours later. He wasn’t having a nightmare, and the room is quiet. There’s no reason that he should be awake. Or so he thinks, until he registers the warmth of another body pressed against his.

At some point in the night, Jay had crossed the distance between them on the mattress. He’s got his head on Tim’s shoulder and an arm thrown over his chest. Tim lies very still and tries not to panic. Jay probably just reached over in his sleep; it doesn’t mean anything. He’ll probably be embarrassed if he wakes up like this, but according to the clock, that won’t be for a while. There’s no reason for Tim to wake him now, not when he’s probably getting the best sleep he’s had in a couple of months.

The panic is slowly seeping from Tim’s head, along with the coherent thoughts in his head. His sleep has been just as fucked as Jay’s, and right now he feels like he could drift right back to sleep. The weight and warmth of Jay is comforting beyond measure. So Tim doesn’t think about it too hard, he just loops his arm around Jay's back and drifts again into the black of sleep.

Tim wakes up for real several hours later to the phantom feeling of someone else’s body against his and a cold empty mattress. Sleepiness pulls at his limbs but for once he feels well rested and content. He drifts, half-asleep, for another couple minutes until he hears the sound of a key in the lock.

“Mornin’. I brought coffee. It’s from 7-Eleven, so it’s probably gross, but it’s caffeine.” Jay says, a cup in each hand and a bag hanging from his arm.

“As long as it’s not rat poison, I’ll take it.” Tim says, sitting up and taking the cup in both hands. “What’s the plan?”

“Well, we’ve got the room for another two nights. I think maybe we take today and drive out to that weird farmhouse Alex took me too.”

“You mean where I tried to kill you and then he broke my leg?” Tim can’t help the snark in his voice.

Jay winces. “Yeah, that one. Unless you have a better idea, we’re kinda at a dead end here.”

“Still no ideas on totheark’s latest code?”

“Nothing.” He admits, sitting at the foot of the bed. He doesn’t mention the previous night and Tim doesn’t know if he’s grateful or not. This vague ambiguity, this grey area of physical contact is making him anxious.

They do end up going to the Mill in the woods. It’s as creepy as it was the first time but they don’t find anything helpful. Instead, they find more of Alex’s senseless “art” and that weird fuckign doll. They spend the rest of the day reviewing tapes and brainstorming cyphers over shitty gas station snacks. By the end of the night they have a couple solid leads, thanks to twitter.

By some unspoken agreement, they both hold themselves less stiffly that night, not worrying about bumping elbows and knees as they get comfy. They very pointedly don’t talk about Jay’s tendency to wrap himself around the nearest body in his sleep.

~*~

Everything, of course, comes to a head on their final night in that particular hotel.

_ Tim is running, running, running. He can hear Jay crashing through the foliage behind him. Blood is crawling up his throat, threatening to drown him. His ears ring with the sound of static and suddenly he’s terribly sure that Jay’s no longer on his heels. _

_ “Jay? Jay!” He wheels around and just as he feared, Jay is nowhere to be seen. Tim has to pause, wheezing against a tree as he coughs blood, bright red, onto the dirt. _

_ “This is your fault, Tim.” Alex’s voice echoes, and suddenly he’s in the tunnel, miles from where he was just seconds ago. “You caused all of this.” _

_ Jay is on the ground, clutching his thigh as blood pools beneath him, his expression strangely distant. Tim had never even heard the gun go off. Alex is standing over him, gun pointed at his face. _

_ “Alex—” He says desperately, taking a step towards him. _

_ “Don’t come any closer, Tim!” He shakes the gun and Tim freezes.  _

_ “You don’t have to do this, Alex. I’ve been dealing with this my whole life. We can figure something out.” He pleads. _

_ “Dealing with it? Is that what you call running around Rosswood in a mask? Everything that’s happening now is because of  _ **_you!”_ ** _ Alex shouts. _

_ “Alex—” _

_ “Just remember that. You caused all of this, Tim.” _

_ “Alex, please don’t—” Tim doesn’t get to finish because Alex pulls the trigger with a loud  _ **_crack!_ ** _ Jay collapses, boneless, as blood and brain matter spray across the concrete. Tim screams. _

~*~

Tim wakes with a gasp. Every breath shakes in his chest and he can’t hear past his heartbeat ringing in his ears. He must be trembling but he can’t really feel anything. 

“Tim? Hey, Tim. Shit, are you okay?”

_ “I’m fine.”  _ He wants to say.  _ “It’s not my first bad dream. I can handle it on my own.”  _ But for some reason he can’t. The words won’t come. He can’t say anything so he just shakes his head and hopes Jay can see well enough in the dark room.

The bed shifts and Jay’s hands are on him, pulling him upright against the smaller man’s chest. His hand is running through Tim’s hair and it’s just too much. He’s so used to piecing himself back together after each nightmare, turning on every light in the house and sitting in a corner until the sun rises. It’s nothing like now, where Jay is holding him tight and whispering promises that everything will be fine.

The dam breaks and Tim slumps like a sack of potatoes, fingers clenched in Jay’s t-shirt. He thinks he might be crying, probably dripping tears onto Jay’s collar, but he can’t bring himself to care. It feels like hours until his heart stops racing and he’s convinced that Jay is alive and warm. Until his shaking turns from fear to need.

He’d stay like this forever if he could, but Jay’s pushing him away and Tim braces himself. He tenses, waiting for the awkward pat on the shoulder and an uncomfortable “that’s enough now.”

That’s not what happens though. What happens is that Jay holds Tim’s face in his hands, wipes the tears from his face, and pushes sweat slick hair back from his forehead. Tim leans into the touch, sighing heavily.

“Tim? Are you okay?” Jay asks.

Tim doesn’t meet his eyes, but nods, not trusting his voice.

“You were kicking in your sleep. Must have been a hell of a nightmare” He says, soft as anything. “You wanna tell me about it?”

“I was in that tunnel, at Rosswood, and Alex… He shot you right in front of me. He said it was my fault that—” He chokes on the end of his sentence, memories of the dream making his eyes burn all over again.

“None of this is your fault, Tim. You can’t blame yourself—”

“But what if it is, Jay? You read my files. It’s the same monstar from when I was a kid. Everyone I get close too ends up infected by this  _ bullshit.  _ Alex, Brian, Seth, Jessica, and you. You all got involved with this because you were around me. You should get as far away from this as you can.”

“Do you  _ actually  _ want that?”

Tim shakes his head.

“That’s what I thought. Besides, if anyone’s to blame, it’s me for meddling with Alex’s old tapes. Even better, neither of us are at fault and we pin all of it on that faceless freak.”

Tim can’t help but smile, wet and fragile. “Yeah, that seems fair.”

Jay's hands are still on his face, so maybe it shouldn’t have been a surprise, but Tim actually  _ jumps  _ when he feels lips on his own. Jay freezes like a deer in the headlights, eyes wide. He pulls away like he’s been burned, blushing down to his collar, though it’s hard to see with only the streetlights outside the window to illuminate the room.

“Shit— I— I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just— I didn’t ask first—” Jay babbles nervously.

Tim is just sitting in shock because  _ wow.  _ He didn’t even know this was something he wanted, but now that it’s happened, his mind is racing. It makes sense, though, doesn’t it? The constant proximity, Jay’s constant mindless affection, the shared experiences. Of course Tim would catch feelings for him, but he hadn’t thought in a million years that Jay would feel the same for him. And Jay—

Jay has stopped completely, stopped talking, and even moving. It’s then Tim realizes that he hasn’t said a word, he’s barely  _ breathed  _ since Jay kissed him.

“Say something, please?”

Tim opens his mouth, but he can’t find the words, and closes it again. Instead he does the next best thing. He grabs Jay by the front of his shirt and presses their lips together. It’s by no means the best kiss he’s had, but he can’t complain when Jay’s hands are back on him, lithe and warm on his waist. Tim breathes Jay in like a drowning man, and thinks  _ ‘this is the kind of thing people write songs about.’ _

Jay on the other hand is pretty sure his brain has stopped completely, unable to form a coherent thought beyond  _ ‘holy shit’  _ and  _ ‘he tastes like cigarettes.’  _ He feels light headed with relief. He’s been perpetually chilled since he watched the first of Alex’s tapes, but right now he feels like his insides are melting.

_ Jesus christ. _

Tim has half a mind to complain when Jay’s mouth leaves his, but then that same mouth is on his throat and the words are gone. Jay presses wet kisses to his Adam's apple, and the junction of his neck, and underneath his jaw. Tim tilts his head back and lets him take what he wants, gasping at every newly discovered sensitive spot.

Jay kisses Tim’s lips again, just briefly, before pulling back. They’re both flushed and a little out of breath. Jay huffs a soft little laugh.

“That was a little unexpected.” He says.

“How long?”

“Jesus. Ages now. I’ve had a thing for you since we were filming the first Marble Hornets, honestly.”

He says it so casually, and it startles Tim. It’s been  _ years  _ since then.

“Christ, Jay.” He breathes.

“You asked.” Jay shrugs.

Tim shakes his head fondly, trying to sort his thoughts into some sort of order, but it’s difficult. Without the adrenaline of the nightmare, or the euphoria of kissing Jay, the exhaustion tugs at his bones like lead. Before he can come up with a smart reply, Jay lets out a huge yawn. Tim laughs at him.

“C’mon. Let’s go back to sleep.”

They both lay down, pulling the covers up, and Jay doesn’t hesitate to wrap himself around Tim, just like before. For once though, Tim doesn’t hesitate to return the touch, threading an arm around Jay’s waist and drifting back to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! So this is my second MH work, and my second work titled with Deviltown lyrics actually.
> 
> I really appreciate feedback, because this is nothing like the last Jam fic I wrote.  
> Kudos and comments mean a lot to me, so feel free to leave one!


End file.
